I am Lord Potter
by The Tantalus Complex
Summary: When Harry Potter is 4 and he lets loose an untamed, powerful blast of accidental magic, his life will change forever, and any hope of his life being canon goes down the drain. Powerful!Harry; Educated!Harry; Manipulating!Dumbledore; Harry/Tonks
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

Rating: PG-Possibly R (Depends) Will Contain mentions of Abuse/Neglect and Violence.

Pairings: Harry/Tonks (Note, can be changed if enough Reviews ask it to)

**Summary:** Our story begins when Harry is a little boy, around 4 or 5, and is being beaten rather savagely by his uncle. Nearing a panicked state, Harry uses accidental magic on his Uncle to make him stop. And that, is when everything that would have been canon changes in the Harry Potter Universe….

_Prologue_

If one should ever visit the Dursley Household, they would find a clean, happy place. Several pictures would adorn the wall, showing many adorable or happy photos of Dudley Dursley, his parents behind with proud visages and beaming smiles. No one ever knew about the skeleton in their closets, the fourth occupant of Number 12 Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey. No one would ever think to look in the cupboard under the stairs, or strain their ears to hear the faint sound of someone breathing quietly in misery.

No, Harry Potter was a child who was hidden from existence, just as Albus Dumbledore wanted him to be. Thin, Malnourished, Poor eyesight, Emotionally/Physically Damaged, and well on his way to becoming a premier chef, Harry was slowly dying at the miserable hellhole. Regularly beat, often gardening, cooking, or cleaning, and shoved away in his small room when not needed, Harry was miserable. He often prayed for someone or even something to come and rescue him, to show him the love that Vernon and Petunia never hesitated to show Dudley. To have someone look at him and call him Harry with a smile on their face, instead of being yelled at with the titles "BOY" and "Freak". For someone to tell him they loved him, instead of being told he was worthless, just like his drunk of a father and whore of a mother. Sometimes, it got so bad that Harry found himself contemplating suicide, at a mere 4 years old.

Harry was contemplating such a subject right now when the front door opened and he heard Uncle Vernon reenter the house after work. Kissing his wife, hugging his son, the aforementioned man turned to find the blemish on his perfect household. Glowering, he yelled, "BOY! Make dinner!"

Sighing mentally, he meekly replied, "Yes, Uncle Vernon," and got around to the kitchen to get out some soup and some bread and cheese. Grabbing a pot and a griddle, turning on the stove, and preparing chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, Harry's stomach rumbled at the scent of food, which he had been deprived of for a good 26 hours now. Asserting immense will power over his instinct to eat the food he was preparing, he finished the grilled cheese sandwiches and began stirring the soup. Just as he lifted the soup off the stove with a ladle to serve it, Dudley entered the room and purposely bumped into Harry.

To Harry's horror, he dropped the soup in abject shock and was covered from head to toe in scalding liquid, noodles, and meat. Whimpering in pain, he only noticed too late Vernon's expression of rage as he picked Harry off the ground and threw him into the wall. Upon the impact, Harry's body tensed, his muscles protested, his bones cracked slightly with micro fractures, and his vision became fuzzy as his glasses flew off. Oxygen starved from losing all the air in his lungs, he tried to breathe and succeeded partially with a small bit of air making its way to his lungs. Then he started coughing. By now, Vernon had made his way over to him. Flipping Harry onto his back, he took off his belt and raised it in his right hand as one would a whip. And to the uncaring gazes of his aunt and cousin, his Uncle Vernon grinned before swiping his hand through the air, the belt following through his motion as an extension of his arm. The heavy leather bit into the child's backside with force, making said child cry out in agony. It went on this way for a good few minutes, starting with 3, then 4, beginning to reach 5, when Harry finally began begging.

"Please, just stop!"

"Shut up you FREAK!"

"Stop, just stop it!"

"I…Said…Shut…Up!" Each word was accompanied with a slash. With a heave of exertion, he slammed Harry right side up again, taking pleasure in the tears running down Harry's face that held an agonized expression. Raising the whip one more time, aiming for his head, Vernon was not prepared for what happened next.

Just as the whip was ascending, Harry yelled out with all his strength, accompanied by thrusting his hands out in front of him as if to shield himself. "STOP," which was followed by a force of immense power propelling Vernon out the door of the kitchen and into the backyard, bringing Petunia and Dudley with him as he crashed into them. Stunned, he waited a few moments before trying to get up. What he didn't see was that while simultaneously throwing the Dursley's outside of their house, he levitated the fridge, the oven, the table, the chairs, and the couches in the living room, and they all followed the Dursley's outside and pummeled into them, leaving all of them unconscious, with many broken/shattered bones, Dudley with brain damage, Vernon unable to sire children anymore, and Petunia dead. With the only family of Harry's left deceased, the blood wards set up by Albus Dumbledore collapsed, returning all of the power they had been draining back to Harry, healing his wounds, scars, malnourishment, and eyesight. All in all, he looked the way a 4 year old should look, but with a slightly more mature visage. As Harry felt the power flow back into him, he unconsciously followed it into his body where he found his magical core, swirling and writhing with untamed power. Looking closely, he related the feeling of it to a thunderstorm, with enormous storm clouds, large bolts of lightning, and tempest winds. Instinctively grasping it, he began wishing to go to a better place, to a place he would be loved. And with a loud crack, Harry Potter disappeared from Number 12 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

_Rating: Definitely M now…. _

Pairings: Definitely Harry/Tonks, no changing that.

But what of everyone else? And what house should Harry and Tonks go to? Who should they befriend and who should they tell to go bugger off? Tell me in a review…

**This chapter may also borrow a few idea's from other things like Inception, Star Trek, etc. Please don't sue me, I'll admit that anything you question about that looks like it is from a movie or game or something might not be mine…**

_Chapter 1: HOME and MEETING TONKS_

As Harry began to materialize, his only thought was: "What the Hell?"

Before him was an exquisite manor, sharply decorated, painted red and gold, maybe 5 stories tall, holding East, West, and South wings. The land surrounding the manor must have been about 100 acres, not including the large field with three hoops on each end, a large bleacher stand, and a large shed. Looking further out into the grounds, he saw a lake, maybe about a mile big, with a dock, a boathouse, some tubes (tubing tubes, if you still don't know what they are, Google them), a couple gallons of gasoline, a raft, and many muggle water guns. To his left, he saw a section of woods with a trail, and a sign on the trail, claiming, "Archery Targets this way." To his right, he found a bunch of sloping hills, which would eventually lead him to what he could tell, was a small private beach.

All in all, it looked like a hidden paradise. Licking his lips in hunger and feeling his hands shaking a little from nervousness, he gathered his courage and began walking towards the front door of the manor. Upon reaching it, he passed several greenhouses, and several cozy looking blankets lying out on the lawn, which looked perfect for lying down on and reading a book in the sun. A small, 2 story building the size of an ordinary house was found off to the right of the manor which he couldn't see before, which held a proud, insanely decorated banner with the words, "Marauders Pad"

Finally arriving at the front door, he tried to mentally rehearse the small speech he would give to the owner, telling him/her what happened and begging them to let him stay. Mouth dry, he knocked on the door and waited. Getting even more nervous when no one answered after a minute, he was about to turn around and look for some food, when the door finally opened and he came eye to eye with one of the strangest creatures he had ever seen.

It was small, with large floppy ears, wide hazel eyes, impeccable cleanliness hanging around it, and it wore a uniform with a crest which help an extravagant letter P in an upside down white triangle surrounded by 11 black and golden stars in a circular pattern around it, the one on top slightly bigger than the others. They stared at each other for a minute, neither one moving or taking their eyes off the other.

Finally, the strange creature began to speak. "I is Spinky, who is you and what is you doing here?"

Adorning a look that made him seem caught in a pair of headlights, he put his head down and started stuttering, "H-H-Harry P-Potter…"

With his face pointing down to the ground, he missed the look of shock and joy that came onto Spinky's face. He did look up when Spinky threw himself at him almost desperately and hugging, saying small, almost understandable murmurs, like, "Master is back," or, "Spinky is so happy!"

Frozen from the physical contact of a hug, which had never had before, Harry slowly raised his arms and began patting Spinky on his back. After a while of exclamations of happiness, Spinky finally let go and gestured Harry to come inside. As they walked into a beautiful entrance hall, Harry had only one question for the moment. "Where are we?"

Spinky stopped. "Master doesn't know where Master is?"

Harry shook his head. "And why are you calling me master? Please, Spinky, call me Harry."

Spinky responded, "Yes Mas—Harry. Spinky will try. So Harry doesn't know where we are? Spinky will have to fix that. We is at your home."

Harry's eyes widened, "What! What do you mean my home? This is all mine?"

Spinky nodded, "Indeed sir. Welcome to Potter Manor."

….._Dumbledore…._

Albus Dumbledore was well renowned for his cleverness, his power, and his gentleness. What few failed to recognize was that he was also incredibly ambitious, devious, and cunning. Returning from dinner at the Great hall with a large smile on his face, he walked into his office and started preparing an after dinner tea. Taking a small sip of it and smiling at the flavor, he leaned back in his comfy recliner and relaxed. Closing his eyes, he was slowly beginning to fall to sleep, when he heard a strange, loud, _PING!_

Opening his eyes, he glanced toward his desk, which held Fawkes, staff reports, a few major renovation requests, and the ward sphere for Privet Drive. The sphere was originally a simple purple/gold hue, shining and sparking with the status of Albus' wards. Now though, it began turning black and white, slowly corrupting the purple and gold hue from the center and spreading outward. Albus frowned, someone was attacking his wards. Walking over and putting his hands on the sphere, he put a large burst of his power into the sphere, hoping it would take the attacker by surprise and make them stop.

What he didn't expect was for the Black and White colors to spread even faster, until it dominated and eventually got rid of the wards, at which point the ward sphere in Albus' hands shattered. Frozen in shock, Albus regained himself, and began to run down towards the entrance hall, at speeds which no one could have guessed the old man could manage. Hurtling down the staircase, every student he passed stopped whatever they were doing to watch the Headmaster run as if a Cerberus (Incredibly high magic resistant, 3 headed dog, rumored to have 10 of them guarding the mortal entranceway to the underworld) was right behind him.

Finally arriving at the doors of the school, in a hurry, he waved the Elder Wand and the doors were destroyed and flew back out into the grounds. At this point, everyone had stopped whatever they were doing to watch Dumbledore make his way with speed to the edge of the wards and disapparate so quickly he almost just seemed to vanish as soon as he passed the school's wards.

Arriving right in front of the doorway to Number 12 Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey, Albus knocked impatiently on the door. After 30 seconds of no one answering or any sounds of movement, he whispered, _"Alohomora!" _and the door sprung open. Doing a point me spell, his wand pointed him directly to Harry's room. Taking a few steps forward, he stopped in confusion when the wand pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. Almost in fear, he opened to door to find a cot, several small broken toys, a light bulb hanging from the ceiling of the 1 meter by 1 meter by 1 meter space, and a great many bloodstains on the wall, the floor and the cot itself.

After restraining his impending feeling of horror, he tried the point me spell for Harry himself. His wand began to spin in circles. Nothing! Gone! Trying the same for Petunia Dursley, he ran forward into the kitchen and froze. There was a large hole in the wall where the back door used to be, and several different pieces of furniture and machines were missing. Feeling his horror beginning to rise up again, he stepped out into the yard, and gaped at the horrible sight before him. Petunia dead, Vernon with several injuries and infertile, and Dudley with several injuries and brain damage. Dumbledore did really not like this. Harry gone, Harry living in the cupboard under the stairs with clear signs of abuse, the family injured/dead, the wards destroyed, and Dumbledore was too late. Sinking to his knees, Dumbledore let loose the contents of his stomach onto the lawn. Child abuse was practically unheard of in the magical world. To even think of hurting one's child was horrendous. Poor Harry had been dealing with it for quite some time now if the bloodstains were anything to go by, and at the poor age of 4. Now he was gone, Albus had no way of tracking or finding the boy, and whoever had destroyed the wards had probably figured out their creator was him, and anyone can put two and two together.

Whoever kidnapped Harry would tell him that he, Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Chief of the Wizengamot, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, most powerful wizard in the world, was responsible for Harry's abuse and life at Number 12 Privet Drive. Now it was almost definite the boy would not trust him, and the careful plans he had laid were crumbling before his very eyes. What started as a great day was now becoming terrible….

….._4 years later_…..

Harry shot out of bed at the alarm clock and turned it off with incredible speed. God, he hated that noise! Making a large yawn and stretching his arms, he sighed with relief at the good feeling it made. Starting out his day like always, he put on a pair of swim trunks, started doing yoga and tai-chi exercises for 10 minutes. After wards, he went outside the manor, nodding politely and giving a, "Good morning!" to Gordon, his personal chef house elf, and began to jog the two mile long route to the lake.

Arriving there, he dove in gracefully and began to make laps. After completing 25 freestyle, 25 backstroke, 25 breast stroke, and 25 butterfly laps, he got out of the lake, grabbed a towel, and ran towards the outside towers, which were only a couple hundred feet away from the lake. Taking a quick, 5 minute hot shower, he wrapped the towel around himself and began walking the shorter route from the lake back to the house.

Arriving in his room, he put on boxers, slacks, a white button up shirt, an emerald tie, and a beautiful black robe with white runes adorning it in specific patterns that would amplify his magical power and abilities. Seeing as he couldn't actually do magic yet, the only reason for wearing them was intimidation to those who knew what they were and a look of power and authority to those who didn't. He also didn't need his glasses any more, as he had visited a wizard optometrist who gave him permanent contacts. Putting on his house ring, which in case you're wondering, is not the head of house ring, but rather the ring for the heir to the house of Potter, he calmly made his way into the small dining room with a table and one chair, not even slightly surprised when the food appeared out of nowhere in front of him. Taking a large sip of milk, he picked up the Daily Prophet and began to read what current events were happening.

After reading Rita Skeeter's latest piece of shit about Cornelius Fudge having an affair with his pretty secretary, he grabbed a remote and turned on the 52" Plasma Screen TV and turned on BBC News. One should never ignore what's happening in the Muggle World after all. Finding nothing serious going on, he turned off the TV and finished up his small continental breakfast. Harry gave a sight, what would he do without Gordon and his wonderful cooking?

He now made his way to the first floor, where he found an average size room of 20 meters by 20 meters by 25 meters. He settled himself down on a comfy recliner, which was the only piece of furniture in the room, and set a time command on the lights to start out normal brightness and slowly fade to darkness after 3 minutes. Putting on a relaxing soundtrack, he closed his eyes and began to meditate. Following the instructions from his Occlumency book, he began to focus on one single thing in his mind, which he had been working on for almost four years now. Looking inward, he found an incredibly large city on the shore of a beach. The city must have held over a thousand building, each one filled with different projections of his subconscious with only one objective: Destroy any intruder who dares enter. To reassure you, this would not destroy the intruder's mind. It would just destroy the intruder's mind's representation in his head, which once gone would repel the intruder's attack.

Harry was almost finished with his Occlumency defenses; he was just missing a few final touches on his control center for them. He already had an antigravity switch, he had Fazers and regular battle turrets adorning the city in strategic places (thank god for watching Star Trek and giving him these idea's), He had an energy force field surrounding his actual mind, and he had a self-destruct button, which would explode everything in his head that was Occlumency related, destroying the intruder and city itself. The bright side was that the city was never truly destroyed; Harry had found that he could rebuild his defenses within seconds after the explosion.

Adopting a satisfied smile, Harry broke his meditation. Let's see some asshole try to enter his mind now! Now that he had finished his Occlumency for the day, and all he had to do was practice bringing everything up as fast as possible, he now had a lot more time to practice Muggle self defense, which included Brazilian Jujitsu, Tang Soo Do, Aikido, Ninjitsu, katas with a staff and a knife, dodging spells, and Gun/Knife/Wand disarming. Harry wasn't old enough to build up lots of muscle on his body yet, but he was pretty fit and strong for an 8 year old. This way, even if someone underestimated him, he would still be able to kick the shit out of any Wizard or Muggle. And in the rare case of him facing a professional duelist, hit wizard, auror, or trained muggle, he had one of the rarest amulets in the world for protection. The Egyptian Udjat of the Eye of Horus, surrounded by protection runes and holding an emergency portkey in a critical situation. Just for the sake of protection, he had also learned to apparate, but he was only to use this in desperation. With the skills he possessed now, and the training the house elves gave him in perception, stealth, and concealment; they now considered him safe to leave the grounds without the House Elves forming a protective barrier of them around him when he went places. Harry blushed still even thinking about it that was just embarrassing.

Making his way to the library, Harry took out several advanced spell books, instruction books, and theory books for Transfiguration, Charms, DADA, COMC, Runes, Arithmancy, Potions, and Herbology. He may not have been able to use magic due to the fact that he lacked a wand and the ministry would find out where he would get in huge trouble, but that didn't stop him from learning about it. The only fields he could safely do magical studies was Potions, Arithmancy, Runes, and COMC. As such, these being the only fields he could actively participate in without just reading how, he devoted immense amounts of time and effort to master them. He was positive that if he kept up this rate, he would be able to take the Potions, COMC, Runes, and Arithmancy N.E.W.T.'s by the time he was 11. Now that was impressive. As for the theory of the other classes, he would guess he was somewhere between 3rd and 4th year.

Right now however, Harry wasn't learning any of those. At this moment, Harry was sweating, his hands held still through pure force of will against his exhaustion. He was creating the Animagus Potion, which required 2 years to make and it was incredibly easy to mess up. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked at the last page of directions from his 100 page long Animagus Potion book. Adding the essence of dittany, he held his breath as he watched the potion change color from Earthy Brown to Pure White, with swirls of Black. Just as the book said. With a yell of triumph, Harry took the potion off the fire and made about 51 vials of the potion, all under a stasis charm. After all, you never know.

Leaving a single vial out on the table, he grabbed the other fifty without care. He learned the first time what happened when you dropped a potion vial by accident and had the man from the apothecary put unbreakable charms on all his potion vials. Walking towards to potion storage room, he put the Animagus Potion vials right next to his Draught of Living Death section. Walking back to the room where he had brewed the potion, he read the instructions for taking it. After rereading it twice so he didn't misunderstand anything, he made his way into the same room where he practiced his Occlumency.

Dragging an air mattress with him, he took a deep breath, downed the potion, lay on the mattress and waited for it to take effect. After a minute, his vision went fuzzier, his mind started drifting, and his body took the appearance of one in a deep sleep.

Within his mind, he found himself confronting one of the most dangerous creatures from legend, a Magical Chimera. It was half dragon, half basilisk, with the dragons' wings, head, and legs, not to mention the ability to breathe fire. The basilisk's tail was there, and its fangs and venom were also acquired. Lastly it had the torso of a hippogriff. Such a creature was so rare that a wand maker like Ollivander would sell his soul to make a wand from such a creature's feathers, venom, scales, and heartstring. Not to mention said creature had one of the greatest resistances to magic known to man. This train of thought actually gave Harry a pretty good idea, but that was for another time.

Carefully approaching the creature, he bowed respectfully and waited, as the book told him to. Seeing the Chimera bow in return, Harry carefully stood up and lightly put his hand on the chimera's mouth. A powerful shudder ran through Harry's body at this point, where it slowly began to shift and change until it became the Chimera. Harry awoke from the dream state and roared with triumph upon finding himself in his Animagus form. Moving around in his new form, Harry spent 2 hours flexing and moving his muscles, which included the basilisk tail (which not many know, but the basilisk tail holds the strongest scales of the creature, not to mention its source of imperviousness to magic) and the wings. Finally he concentrated and returned to his human form.

Practicing the shifting for half an hour until he could do it within a few seconds, Harry left the room and made his way towards the humongous fireplace in the entrance hall, which could easily hold 5 people in it, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and yelled, "Ministry of Magic!" After all, he had to register his Animagus form, the fine for not doing so was horrendous.

Arriving in the atrium with his hood up and his face covered, he moved in the way his house elves taught him to: with confidence, grace, and power. After all, would a mugger go after someone who carried an air of power around them, or someone with their head down and an air of weakness about them? Making his way towards the elevator, he waited patiently and silently around the adults in there with him who glanced at him curiously. Shrugging off their stares, he got off on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He did not go to the normal spot where people register an Animagus form usually, for who would believe an 8 year old could be an Animagus? Not to mention he wanted this as quiet as possible. Instead, he wandered calmly over to Amelia Bones office, who was head of the department, and from he read of her in the Daily Prophet, probably the only one to take him seriously.

Knocking on her door, he heard a terse, "Come in," and stepped inside. Closing the door, he turned around to see the face of a surprised Amelia Bones whose hand began drifting toward her wand. Seeing her intentions, Harry raised his hands in submission and to show he wasn't armed. Amelia took her wand out anyway, its tip glowing a faint white, aimed right at his head.

"Take off your hood," she ordered.

"First I must ask that you place silencing and privacy spells around your office."

"How about you take off your hood and then I'll decide whether or not we need them."

Seeing very little choice, and Amelia's calculating, cold face trying to determine who he could be with a young voice like his, he slowly reached one of his raised hands to his forehead and with 2 fingers dropped his hood. Amelia Bones gasped, here in front of her was the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, wearing a robe that she had only heard of before, and an amulet she only knew of from legend. His piercing emerald eyes locked onto her shocked crystal blue ones and asked, "Can you put up the spells now?"

Nodding, she put up silencing spells and notice me not wards. Sitting down in her chair, she offered the shoulder length haired 8 year old a cup of tea. Declining, he brought out a hip flask which held a warming charm and his own special tea, which was filled with nutrients. Holding back a smirk at the similarity he and Mad Eye Moody had, Amelia Bones asked, "So what can I do for you Mr. Potter?"

Carefully putting his hair into a casual pony tail, he said, "Madame Bones, I need your assistance in a case of registering my Animagus form. As you might guess, I would want to keep this as quiet as possible, but still legal, not to mention I doubt your registration would believe me, an 8 year old, to actually be an Animagus. Do you understand?"

Amelia thought about it for a few seconds and it actually made a great deal of sense. With Harry's fame, if the press even found out about his Animagus form, it would be all over the news within seconds for weeks. Taking a sip of her tea, she asked, "Alright then. What are you?"

Smirking, Harry replied, "A chimera."

Choking, Amelia spit out the tea in her mouth and gaped at the 8 year old boy. No one had a Chimera Animagus since Rowena Ravenclaw. Taking a gasping breath, she recovered. "Alright Mr. Potter. Show me."

"Gladly." And then he transformed. Madam Bones was not an easily impressed person. But Mr. Potter's Animagus form was enough to make her stare with appreciation at the rare creature before her. Making a mock bow, Harry transformed back into a human again. Madam Bones by this point was sitting down and filling out the paper work. Making his way towards the door, he signed a rune into the air which canceled the silencing spell and the notice me not ward. Pulling his hood up, he thanked Madam Bones and walked out the door.

..._Diagon Alley_…

Making his way into Diagon Alley, Harry stopped by Gringotts to pick up his order which he made a week ago. Walking smoothly up to the teller, he asked in Gobbledygook one of the few phrases he knew. "Might we discuss something in private?" The teller nodded with an impressed air, for few wizards bothered to learn any of the goblin tongue, and they made their way towards a private room. Sitting down comfortably, after the goblin had done so, Harry lowered his hood, and said, "I believe I made an order recently about acquiring a never-emptying Gringotts money bag, blood locked and charmed against summoning, theft, and impervious to magic, with a rune activated shrinking/enlarging charm, and an undetectable extension charm in the name Harry Potter. Is such a bag ready?"

The goblin nodded, "Indeed Mr. Potter. I shall retrieve it for you. It shall cost you 200 Galleons. Please sign this receipt for the appropriate funds to come out of your vault while I retrieve the package."

Pleased with the results, Harry signed the receipt and wrote down how much he spent in his money pocket book. 2 minutes later, the goblin returned and showed Harry how to use it. Happy with the service, Harry made his way to the front of the bank accompanied by the teller, and bowed before he left, saying in front of everyone in Gobbledygook, "Thank you for your services, and may your flow of gold never cease."

Walking out of the bank, he made his way to Ollivander's. Stepping inside, he turned and immediately raised his hands in a self defensive position, with his amulet glowing blue after being activated by the adrenaline rush from Harry's flight or fight situation, while his ring lit up white with several protective runes. Ollivander, who had appeared out of nowhere, was startled at this display and took a moment to observe the well protected young man in front of him. Going to the front of the store, he sat down and motioned for Harry to do the same.

Getting comfortable, Harry didn't waste any time with pleasantries. "Mr. Ollivander, do you ever make custom wands?"

Surprised again at the youth's blatant question, he responded, "Yes, I have done so, but they cost a great deal more than the normal price and you have to come with the wand core yourself. I shall supply the wood. I presume you want me to make you one?" Seeing Harry's nod, he continued, "Are you also aware, sir, that it is illegal to possess a wand until one is 11 years old?"

Seeing Harry's nod again, he sighed, and said, "Alright young one, where are the cores?"

Harry at this point transformed into his Chimera, and struggled to contain a laugh which might have let out a burst of fire with it. Ollivander was struck dumb for a third time. A youth who not only had an Animagus form, but a Chimera? This one would do great things one day. Walking forward, he gently acquired samples of the feathers, scales, venom, and used a rarely known, complex spell which would duplicate the heartstring of the animal using a stem cell without actually hurting the animal. Telling his customer that he was finished, he motioned for him to change back.

Upon doing so, his hood was down, and Mr. Ollivander saw his customer clearly for the first time, an 8 year old Mr. Potter. Getting tired of the numerous surprises, he shook his head and led Harry toward the back of his shop, where he had a great collection of magical woods. Harry ended up, amazingly, with one of his last pieces of Yggdrasil, the Norse World tree. With the wood type and the cores, this wand would be amazingly powerful and all around decent at everything, with a strong aptitude toward Defensive Magic.

Telling Mr. Potter that the wand would be made within a month, but he couldn't actually buy it until he was 11, Harry paid out 100 Galleons for the wand and left the shop, a smile on his face.

Making his way towards Flourish and Blotts for his final errand, to pick up more advanced books for DADA, for he was excelling with the theory and spell knowledge, and stopped when he heard a strange noise come from a side alley. It sounded almost like crying. Moving carefully, he made his way down the side alley and saw something that took his breath away. A beautiful girl, perhaps about his age, with long white hair and shockingly beautiful white irises, was being cornered by a staggering man with a leering expression at her. She was letting out a few sobs while trying to curl into a ball and Harry was outraged to find her bleeding in a few spots and had a bruise on her cheek.

Taking a moment to make his aura and demeanor intimidating, with his hood still up, his runes on his cloak and ring glowing white, and his amulet glowing blue, his fists tightly clenched, he walked over to the man and tapped his shoulder. The man, in his surprise, looked down at Harry, and sneered, his white blond hair looking very greasy and smelled horribly pungent. Pulling his fist back, he let it fly while simultaneously performing a side kick into the man's groin. As the man fell on the ground, moaning in pain and clutching his agonized groin, Harry grabbed his Carotid Artery and held it for a few seconds until the man fell into unconsciousness. Walking calmly over to the girl, Harry knelt and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The girl shivered at his touch and shook her head, her gorgeous white hair shaking about in a slight wind. Harry frowned, wondering the extent of her injuries. Helping her up, she leaned most of her weight on him, and they slowly began making their way out of the alley, Harry keeping a careful eye out for more hostiles.

"Are you with someone? Does anyone know you're here?"

Shaking her head at the first question, and nodding at the second, Harry noticed she was leaning more and more of her weight on him for support. It was a bad sign, she was losing consciousness and he didn't know where to take her. Quickly, yet gently holding her shoulder's, he looked deep into her beautiful white eyes and asked just a few seconds before she would lose consciousness, "What's your name?"

The girl, who was slowly getting fuzzy vision, didn't seem to mind her name as much as she usually did and told the nice stranger who helped her just before she passed out. "Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks."

_'What a beautiful name...'_ was Harry's last thought before he activated his personal portkey and they both vanished with the feeling of a hook pulling on their navels.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! So, so sorry about not updating recently, Senior Year at High School is rough, what with AP classes and all. I am proud to announce that you can now read the third chapter of my little story, and I appreciate the support. Don't be afraid to review with questions/comments, and the next time I don't update for a while, don't be afraid to badger me about it. BTW, I am aware how clichéd and used this is, but honestly, everyone should at least try writing one of these. It is actually harder than it looks, and kind of fun too. Besides, plain Harry would take forever to get to this point.**

Landing firmly within the drawing room of his house, Harry, not without a little effort, hoisted the young Ms. Tonks onto his shoulder and made his way to the guest room of his abode. Laying her onto his bed gently, he called for Spinky, his head house elf, and the one with the most knowledge about medical care. Popping in, the elf whitened to see a young girl in not so good shape. Taking note of her ratty clothes, with some rips and tears, and the bruises and cuts on her face, the elf shoved Harry aside, placing glowing hands on the girl's temples. Harry didn't object, both out of respect to his knowledgeable companion, and worry for the girl's health.

The girl's cuts started to close, fading to old scars within seconds. The bruises lightened, giving the two worried males a better view of the odd scar on the girl's cheek. As the healing finished, the white hair changed to a soft brown color, and the girl smiled before falling into a deeper sleep state, not to wake until the following morning. Harry and Spinky were amazed. A metamorphmagus hadn't been seen in decades, most of them and their line being killed in the war with Grindelwald, seeing as they made such excellent spies and both sides began to doubt whether they could trust them. Harry sighed, happy that at least her wounds were healed. Writing a short note, he gently closed her bedroom door, and went downstairs to eat a really late lunch. Drama made him hungry these days….

…_Dumbledore…._

Albus Dumbledore was at his wits end. Having spent the last four years searching the entire European continent, along with calling in almost every favor he had, Harry Potter could still not be found. Scenarios played across his mind, of Voldemort's shade having found the young boy, or a group of rogue Death Eaters keeping him in a torture cell without the sun, only pulling him out every now and then for a good laugh. His gray hair had actually whitened; such was the strain of his stress. He no longer cared for lemon drops, and he began to have a weekly habit of pissing himself with Fire Whiskey every Friday night. As it was hard to miss, his staff began giving him worrying looks, and doing their utmost to lighten his workload. Fawkes had taken to singing the old wizard to sleep, and he still had occasional nightmares, the worst having Grindelwald train the boy and find the Deathly Hallows to create chaos the world over.

No child in centuries, millennia had the potential Harry Potter did, his core was unique in that it didn't reject magic from other cores, it actually integrated them and it grew. So when Voldemort had cast the killing curse and failed, not only did he make Harry a horcrux, he had actually absorbed most of his magical core, leaving Voldemort's shade weaker than the meanest ghost. Such ability was frightful in the wrong hands, and Dumbledore feared what would happen when others found out Harry's gift…and his curse.

…_..Harry Potter and Nymphadora Tonks…._

Tonks woke up with a blinding headache, bright morning light shining in through the open window. Squinting, she waited until her eyes adjusted; blinking in surprise to find herself somewhere she didn't know. Stretching her stiff limbs, she clambered out of bed, making her way to the door where she found a short note stuck to it. Tearing it off, she read,

"Sorry for not being there when you woke, I was a bit inconvenienced. You are not kidnapped, you were unconscious and as I had nowhere else to take you, you now find yourself at Potter Manor, a small castle in Wales. I shall be in the Kitchen, ask Spinky for directions and anything else you might need."

Harry Potter

By now, Tonks's eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates. Harry Potter, as in the Boy-Who-Lived? THE Harry Potter? Tonks pinched herself, nope, not a dream. Looking down, she was surprised to find herself in a set of comfortable, covering pajamas, a shirt and pants. There wasn't a mark left on her, and she was surprised to find a smile make its way onto her face for the first time in more than a month. Living on the streets did that to people, she supposed. Her mind began to drift to her family's deaths…NO! She couldn't think of that right now, she had to be strong! A strong aroma pierced her mental argument.

Following the drool-inducing smell, she found a large kitchen, painted Hershey chocolate brown, with swirls of white and gold; weird but intriguing. The appliances were either stainless steel or black, and the countertops were all granite. The large table towards the wide window overlooking the grounds looked like it could seat 8. At the table was three empty seats and an elf reading a newspaper, a surprising site, not many people allowed house elf's such liberty. At the stove stood an 8 year old boy, her age, and tongue between his teeth, as he cautiously took a frying pan off the hot stove, grasped the handle with both hands, and flipped the pancake onto a tray where a good 15 small to medium sized ones already sat. The boy had firm looking arms, a thin, willowy figure, and a sense of power roiling around him. His brilliantly bright green eyes held a knowing glance, as if he saw and understood everything. It was almost unnerving. Wiping a non-existent sweat drop from his brow, Harry put the pan back onto the stove, turned the stove off, and picked up the tray.

Turning around, she came into his sites, and saw one of the most amazing sites she had ever seen. A smile grew onto his face, starting small, subtle, and mischievous, morphing into a regular, happy smile, which blossomed into an ear to ear grin that seemed to say that the world was beautiful because _SHE_ was in it. Blushing, she looked into his eyes to find a glint of some concentration die down, as he asked, "Breakfast, Ms. Tonks?"

Stomach growling with agreement, she nodded, wondering how he knew her name, and took a seat at the table, him following after grabbing the maple syrup and 3 forks. Offering a hand, she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Tonks."

Harry smiled, and said, "As you probably read on my note, I'm Harry Potter, please call me Harry, and this is my friend and loyal house elf, Spinky, who took the liberty of healing your wounds last night, Nymphadora."

Frowning as the memories kicked from last night, and repressing a shudder, she was about to reprimand him for calling her that dreaded name and wondering how he knew it, she began, "How do you know m—"

Spinky interrupted, excitably asking, "Did you make any with chocolate chips, Master?"

Laughing, Harry replied, "Of course, don't I always? And stop calling me master, remember our little deal. Please, Nymphadora, if you don't mind me calling you that, dig in." Smiling in happiness, Spinky took 3 pancakes off the platter and, pouring a good dollop of syrup onto each of his pancakes, dug in. Seeing Harry nod encouragingly at her, Tonks too took three pancakes, and after adding the syrup, took a bite. Her taste buds exploded into sensation, her body relaxing as the delicious food made its way into her empty stomach. Resisting the urge to moan with delight, hair flashing a bright white in happiness and then reverting back to brown, she once again began her previous comment.

"Please don't call me that, I prefer Tonks." Seeing him nod, and commit it to memory, she continued, "Now, thanks a lot for last night; I would've been a goner if you hadn't shown up."

Harry shook his head, "It's what I do, and I couldn't leave someone to be treated like that. Are you feeling better, or is there anything else Spinky or I could do to help?"

Tonks shook her head, reluctant to take more of Harry's apparently freely given hospitality. She wasn't great at accepting charity. Changing the subject, she asked, "Where did you learn to cook like that, it has to be one of the most amazing meals I've ever tasted."

Harry's face darkened considerably, and for half a second the light in the room seemed to darken with him, before his face cleared into a constrained smile. Tonks immediately noted this was not a topic he wanted to breach, especially with someone he just met. She also found his eyes weren't as bright a green as they had been a couple seconds ago. "Nowhere special."

There was an awkward silence around them for a while, as they finished the rest of their breakfast. Quietly asking where her clothes went, Harry blushed as Spinky explained they were carrying an infection on them of dragon pox, and she would have succumbed to the disease if she were wearing them much longer. Spinky had taken the liberty of measuring her and had ordered clothes that were to be delivered today, at around 11 o clock. Taking a look at the large grandfather clock visible just outside of the kitchen, she noticed it was 10:30, and only had to wait for another half hour.

Standing up, she went to her temporary room, after enquiring the location the bathroom. Finding her room was an ensuite; she took a shower and brushed her teeth, before leaving the bathroom and finding a nice looking, expensive outfit sitting on her bed. Trying on the robes, which fit perfectly, she made her way back downstairs, with the intention of thanking her host and telling them that she now had to leave.

Calling for Spinky, who pointed her towards a room at the end of the east wing, she found Harry, and what looked to be one of the strangest rooms she had ever seen, another weird thing about this house. Harry seemed to be sitting in front of a wooden pole that was about the same height as him, practicing muggle martial arts moves on wooden appendages that remained still on the figure (Watch Ip Man). Then she saw his robe, with its many runes, the unearthly amulet hanging from his neck, and the glowing ring around his right ring finger. Opening her mouth to speak, her jaw kept dropping instead of picking back up to make sound as he increased the tempo of his maneuvers until he finally did an intense palm strike to the "heart" of the figure in front of him, which, amplified by the shining runes on his cloak, his glowing ring, and the burnished amulet, blasted the figure into tiny pieces smaller than woodchips. It was awe inspiring, especially as the entire time he held a blank expression and hadn't even broken a sweat.

Tonks finally regained herself and cleared her throat. Harry spun around, hands raised in a potent looking defensive stance, before relaxing as he saw it was Tonks. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his neck, asking, "So, you saw that, huh?"

Tonks' eyes were still incredibly wide as she nodded, noticing his hands were not even bruised, let alone cut or broken. The wooden figure was roughly half a foot thick! Just who was Harry Potter? Opening her mouth with intentions to actually speak this time, she said, "I just wanted to thank you for saving me yesterday, and I really appreciate your hospitality, but I don't want to be a burden on you any longer."

Harry frowned, eyes reflecting his confusion. "Burden? Tonks I took you in because you were hurt, it was done willingly and I would do it again." Still confused, he led her to the large fireplace, in his drawing room, easily able to fit 4 people in it. Grabbing a pot of floo powder off a shelf nearby, he said, "Well, where do you live? I'll go with you to help explain the situation to your family."

Tonks seemed to withdraw into herself. Her hair again turned white, but this seemed a bitter, frosty white instead of the previous shiny, bright white. Her eyes turned a melancholy shade of gray, and she seemed to struggle to say something before finally letting out in a soft voice, "I don't have a family. They're dead."

Harry started. No family? Like him? Before he could ask any questions, she seemed to burst, as if she had been meaning to tell someone long ago, but never could and just held it in.

"They were murdered, by a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback. I was at school, and I had just come home to find their bloodied corpses staring up at me. I will never forget that sight. My father had managed to cast a severing hex that hit; we found his pinky finger in the living room. Aurors identified it as him, and now I have no family, living alone on the streets, waiting for my moment of vengeance, waiting to kill the four fingered monster that killed my parents."

Harry seemed taken aback at first, but then drew his features into a calculating set. And he asked, "How do you intend to accomplish this feat, an 8 year old girl, taking on a 47 year old beast that preys on people like you every day?"

Tonks drew herself up to full height. "I don't know yet, but I promise you, I will. Only I'll probably need help. And after the way you took down Malfoy Senior as he was beating me, I figure you're a good place to start. Will you help me?" Finishing her piece, she looked deep into his emerald eyes, praying to every deity she knew that Harry would help her.

Harry nodded, making a mental note to put Malfoy Sr. into his report to the Aurors. "Alright, you can stay. We start tomorrow."

Tonks started. What? She can stay? Here, in this manor, with him, just like that? Wait, start what tomorrow? She asked him this?

Harry grinned, and in that grin there seemed to be a cold malevolence that would make normal men run screaming into the night, and even hardened criminals shiver with fear. "Your training."


End file.
